Happiness and Heartbreak
by downton-and-daydreams
Summary: A series of unconnected six sentence fics detailing moments from the lives of Cora and Robert, prompts now welcome.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : So this is going to be a series of non-connected six-sentence fics from moments in the life of Cora and Robert, they won't go in chronological order and I highly doubt they will make sense at times but I'm going by 'if it has a full stop at the end it counts as a sentence.' **

Cora's teaspoon clattered into her teacup as she rushed from the room, murmuring an almost unintelligible apology to Robert's parents.

Robert sighed, darted a look of reproof at his mother, ignored his sister's raised eyebrows and his father's annoyed expression, put his teacup down and followed his new fiancée, unsure if it was duty or affection that prompted him to do so.

To his relief, he found her almost at once, in the hallway, facing away from the drawing-room, her fingernails pressing into her palm – a gesture that he would learn, over the years, meant she was holding back tears.

'I'm sorry, I was being silly, I'll go back inside,' she said as soon as she saw him approach, as if she had rehearsed what to say, and for a moment, he wonders if she had, it the setup at Downton has awed her so much that she feels she needs to practice what to say – he doesn't want their marriage to be like that, even if he doesn't love her he admires her intellect and he wants her to feel as if she can discuss things with him without fear of rebuke.

'No, don't apologise,' he said, hoping to reassure her, 'Mama's remark was uncalled for, and I'm truly sorry that it hurt you, when, if I may say so, I think your accent is quite lovely, Miss Levinson.'

She smiled up at him, but he was still worried that she was nervous, so disregarding the fact that they were probably being watched by a servant, he took her hand in his and kissed it, then squeezed it gently to show her that he was on her side, and they returned to the drawing-room, to Robert's family, who wouldn't accept her at first but would do so in time, and to a new life, together.

**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated and if you want to throw a prompt at me that would be great too xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all your lovely reviews and thank you to everyone who has favourited/followed this story, it means a lot to me :) This chapter is based on a prompt from risingdancer (thank you!) who suggested a chapter about the day Robert announced his love for Cora.**

Robert stood to the side and watched Cora circulating the drawing-room, chattering and laughing with their guests in a way which his parents, if they were there and not in London, might find excessive, but he found it – her – remarkably endearing.

As he observed her natural manner and easy conversation, something as sudden as a lightning bolt hit him and he realised, with startling clarity, that after all those months of stilted conversation and awkward encounters in her bedroom, he was in love with his wife.

Abruptly, he went straight to Cora's side and took her hand in his, a simple gesture which made her jump and stare at him – surely, he thought, her reaction only heightened the fact that affectionate gestures like holding hands were rare in their marriage, so leaning down, he whispered into her ear, 'Cora, come to the library with me.'

Carefully trained not to display surprise in front of guests, Cora nodded and quietly apologised to the couple she was conversing with, then followed him to the library, her mind reeling as to why he might want to talk to her alone, and why he would summon her to a darkened library on the evening of the first dinner they were hosting alone, rather than just talk about it in her bedroom later.

He guided her to the settee, sat down, indicating she should too, and took both of her hands, kissing them in a way that made her blush prettily, and seeing her blush and how beautiful she looked in her ice blue gown, he said, bluntly and without hesitation, 'Cora, I love you.'

Amazed, she gazed up at him, her blue eyes shining with tears, and when she had registered the sincerity in his, she impulsively threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck, murmuring, 'I love you too, I love you so very much.'


	3. Chapter 3

When initially told he would need to marry an heiress to save Downton, Robert had assumed that his marriage would be considered a business arrangement, but now, thirteen years later, as he watches Cora laugh over a letter from Harold, he realises how utterly unfounded his assumption had been.

Her laugh is so enchanting he adores it – society has taught his wife to hide her amusement by putting a hand to her mouth when she finds something funny, but when they are alone together she laughs properly, with her head back and her eyes sparkling, and he thinks he has never seen anything as natural, or as beautiful.

It's silly, really, but since he has returned from the Boer war, Cora's smallest and most insignificant habits, like buttering her toast horizontally instead of vertically, or adding sugar to her tea before milk, seem especially endearing to him, and now, as she stirs her tea in her usual anti-clockwise motion, he watches her tenderly, and she smiles at him questioningly, laughing lightly at the uncharacteristic expression of devotion on his face.

'You look very lovely,' he says, by means of an explanation, and she smiles, discarding her breakfast tray on her dressing table and kissing him, a light, quick kiss which he deepens almost immediately, so that when it ends she is on her back and he is on top of her, her hands running through her hair.

'Well, I can see someone's glad to be back,' she purrs as his lips trail down her neck and she tilts her head to allow him greater access, 'and here was I thinking you were more interested in your newspaper.'

He laughs, remembering again how much he loves her and wants her – not just physically, although he does desire her immensely, sometimes at the most inappropriate times, but he also wants her to make him think and make him laugh, he wants her at his side for the rest of his life, and it seems like every day is a constant reminder of this.

**A/N: Any prompts are also welcome :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Slightly different take on this one, tell me what you think :)**

It was such a small rip that he was sure Lord Grantham hadn't noticed it, but nevertheless, John took out his mending basket and repaired the hem of the overcoat with neat, even stitches, although, to his surprise, as he moved to hang it up, a crumpled snapshot fell from the pocket.

With almost uncharacteristic curiosity, John picked it up, his eyes widening when he recognised the woman in the photograph as a younger Lady Grantham, aged about twenty-two, and laughing unguardedly, her delicate features lit up in such a way that he couldn't fail to find her absolutely stunning.

It surprised him that Lord Grantham had a photograph of his wife when he saw her every day – and every night too, to Miss O'Brien's disapproval – and that he should have kept the photograph for so long, but what was surely the most surprising was the intimacy of the picture.

Of course, she was perfectly dressed, but there was something he couldn't explain in her eyes that made him think she was completely comfortable in the moment it was taken, that the photograph was entirely natural and that maybe the photographer took another, more conservative one of Lady Grantham smiling in a way that would be more favoured by society, but Lord Grantham chose to keep this one as it reflected her personality more – not, of course, that John would have professed to know her personality at all, but there was something remarkably endearing about the girl in the photograph.

As he looked again at the picture, he remembered the one he kept of Vera, long since burnt in a torment of anger, a simple photograph of her sitting down in a studio, wearing a dress with a vulgar neckline that he considered quite inappropriate, her expression wooden, having had the photograph taken at his request, whereas he imagined Lord Grantham had said something to make Lady Grantham laugh as this was being taken.

Sighing, he left the photograph back, put away his mending basket and blew out the candle, but when he lay awake in his small bed later that night, he couldn't help wishing for a photograph of the woman he loved, so that he could look at it every day, as Lord Grantham undoubtedly did with his treasured photograph of his wife.


	5. Chapter 5

Robert silently thanks God that Cora is asleep when he enters her bedroom, knowing that if she were awake he wouldn't be able to stop himself telling her everything, about his feelings of neglect and uselessness, about his need for her attention, and about Jane, and although of course she deserves to know, he should tell her later – or maybe he just wants to delay telling her because he is unspeakably nervous about her reaction.

Only once have they discussed adultery, one night when news had broken that Lord Aysgarth had betrayed his wife, a friend of Cora's – that night, they had promised one another that they would never be unfaithful, and although that promise had been made lightly, as they lay wrapped in the bedsheets, their hands entwined, he had been the one to break it, for even though he didn't take the maid to bed, he has certainly betrayed Cora's trust, and that hurts more than anything.

He takes her hands in his, and nearly drops them in surprise, for her wrists are very thin, and although she has always been slender, he observes her closely and realises that she has lost a great deal of weight, and yet he hasn't realised until now – it's taken her almost death for him to realise that his own wife has lost far too much weight, when a year ago he would have noticed instantly.

She's had a lot to do, of course, and she has told him that she is cutting back on her portions at mealtimes, so that those who truly need food will receive more, in fact, she asked if he might do the same, but he only laughed at her, telling her it was a typically American idea, at which her bottom lip had trembled and she had blinked twice – signs that she was about to cry, signs he knew after thirty years of marriage, but signs that he had ignored completely, sitting down and going back to his newspaper as she nodded and left the room.

Oh, God, she deserves someone much better than him – she deserves someone who would help her to run their home, instead of leaving her to do all the work by herself, someone who would look after her when she is ill, instead of kissing a woman they employ as she lies ill next door, someone who would love her generous and kind spirit, instead of laughing at her for it, someone who would treasure her, protect her, stay true to her, someone who would do all the things he hasn't.

Tears now coursing down his cheeks, he gets up from her bed and presses a kiss to her forehead, breathing in her rose scent before returning to his dressing room, where visions of him and Cora in happier times continue to haunt him, reminders of what he has lost due to his own stupidity, until he sleeps, with the photograph he keeps of her tucked under his pillow, as a way to feel close to her, though he doesn't deserve to be.


	6. Chapter 6

'Mama, Granny was saying that Papa only married you for your money, and that he didn't love you until later, and I think that's really horrible and I'm never ever going to marry somebody who doesn't love me,' declared Sybil spiritedly, one afternoon in the library when Robert was away on estate business and Cora was supposed to be reading to her.

'Sybil, darling,' Cora began, mentally berating Violet for bringing up the subject with Sybil, who at only seven years of age was far too young to be thinking about marriage, 'when the time came for your father to choose a wife, it was clear that he would have to marry an heiress, who would have enough money to save Downton, and so he began to court me, with the intention of marrying me and using my dowry to save Downton – but I was head over heels in love with him from the first time I met him.

'At Lady Cartwright's ball, dear Aunt Rosamund mentioned a younger brother back from Cambridge, and I was curious when she told me that he was of a similar age to me and had studied history – I then asked about him in quite an obvious manner, so she pointed him out to me, and I was instantly transfixed by the tall, handsome Englishman with the dark blue eyes who was conversing politely with my mother, of all people.'

Sybil giggled and Cora continued, 'I wanted to speak to him all evening, but I could never find the opportunity, and maybe I flatter myself but I think he wanted to speak to me as well, and just when it looked as though we'd never be able to speak or dance with each other, he bumped into me outside the cloakrooms, quite literally, spilling half his drink down my new dress, although of course, you know Papa, he apologised about a thousand times, and only after I'd assured him that it was alright did he ask for my name.

'It wasn't the most ideal of meetings, but I fell in love with him, so when he proposed, after a terrifying tea with Granny during which my heritage was questioned precisely six times, I accepted because I hoped that he would come to love me in the same way I had come to love him – and he did, Sybil darling, he did fall in love with me, and he's made me happier than I ever thought possible.'

Robert, who had returned from his meeting early in the hope of surprising his wife, entered the library to see his wife telling his daughter about the first time they had met, so, with a finger to his lips to stop Sybil announcing his presence, he tiptoed around to the back of Cora's chair and softly kissed the back of her neck, murmuring into her ear, 'I really am sorry I ruined your dress, darling.'


	7. Chapter 7

His mother might have explained their trip as being, 'a relaxing break for Robert and his dear wife, away from the pressures of Downton,' but Robert can think of many ways to describe their impromptu trip, and the word 'relaxing' would certainly not be used – in fact, he and Cora have barely left the hotel room, except tonight, for a dinner to celebrate their first anniversary, and now they are walking back to the hotel, hand in hand.

Cora is chatting animatedly about a similar restaurant in America, but as they round a corner, she squeals, 'dancing, Robert,' pointing to a public house, and he is about to refuse to enter, he is about to say that nobody of their station would be seen dancing in a pub, but something (maybe it is the light in her eyes, or the way she grasps his hand excitedly) prompts him to smile at her and lead her into the small pub.

Wordlessly, he places a hand on her waist, her hand rests on his shoulder, and they dance in the waltz they danced when they first met, and yet somehow this is far more exhilarating and wonderful, not only because they know they love each other but also because in such an undistinguished setting they can be just another couple.

They both find themselves relishing in the anonymity that such a setting provides – there is nobody to raise an eyebrow at how close they dance, nobody to care how low his hand is on her back, nobody to comment on the tender, loving way they look at each other, and it is almost unbelievably refreshing.

She laughs as he twirls her around faster and faster, and suddenly, looking at his laughing, beautiful wife, he realises just how lucky he is – not one of those ladies in that Mayfair ballroom would want to waltz with him in a pub, none but his Cora, his vibrant, stunning, Cora, and, impulsively and disregarding propriety completely, he kisses her on the lips as though they are the only two people in the world.

Later, back at the hotel, as they lie together awaiting sleep, Cora kisses him once more, murmuring, 'thank you, Robert, we've had such a lovely evening,' and as she rests her head on his chest, he kisses the top of her head, because she is right – it has been a magical, incredible, perfect evening and he knows he will treasure the memory of Cora's blue eyes sparkling as they danced for the rest of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long! **

Cora is so surprised by the knock on her bedroom door that she jumps, nearly spilling her tea – she has been living at Downton for three months now but nobody has ever called on her in the morning, so, assuming it must be Rosamund, she calls, 'come in,' whilst wondering what it is that cannot wait until luncheon.

Much to her surprise, however, it is Robert who enters, clutching a copy of the newspaper, and as her flustered 'good morning,' is reciprocated she hurriedly tries to comb down her hair with her hands, nervous that she might look untidy so early in the morning.

'You look lovely, don't worry, Cora, and I'm very sorry to disturb you,' he says, walking over to where she is sitting up in bed, her breakfast tray balanced on her lap, 'but I was reading the newspaper, and well, I happened to see an article by a travel writer who was writing about his experiences in America, Newport specifically,' at these words, her face lights up and he can't help smiling as he continues, 'I thought you might want to read it, it might remind you of home.'

'Oh, Robert, what a lovely idea,' she says, still blushing from his earlier compliment, 'thank you, I know I will enjoy reading it and its very kind of you, but I am sorry if I've been noticeably homesick lately, I don't mean to be.'

'Don't apologise, I know I would be the same,' he says, his fingers brushing against hers slightly as he places the newspaper next to her breakfast tray, and sending shivers down her spine as they do so, 'well, I'll see you at luncheon, Cora, I look forward to it.'

'Yes, so do I – I mean, I look forward to seeing you too,' she manages to say, but as he nods and leaves her room, she can't help smiling widely, replaying their conversation in her head, unaware that as he sits at breakfast next to his father, he is doing the exact same thing.


	9. Chapter 9

'No, Mary, let Mama read the story,' Edith protested, and Sybil nodded vigorously, though she was too young to know what she was agreeing with, 'Mama's voice is pretty, it's nicer than Papa's.'

Cora bit her lip, mouthing an apology to Robert, feeling slightly guilty about Edith's childlike honesty, but he only laughed, saying, 'Edith's right, darling,' and handing Cora the novel it had taken three flips of a coin to choose.

As she began to read, Robert felt so enormously happy, watching his beautiful wife read to their children in her soft American accent, that he felt even words might ruin the scene, so instead he picked up her other hand from where it rested on her lap, and entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing her hand gently to let her know how happy he was to be back from war, and how proud he was of her and their children.

Cora, of course, understood, Cora always understood what he was thinking or feeling through just the touch of a hand or a glance over dinner, and so when she felt his hand squeeze hers, she put the book down, disregarding their children's complaints, and kissed him, a gentle kiss which became more passionate as she bought one hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him closer so that his tongue slipped into her mouth.

'Mama, please,' Mary sighed, and Robert and Cora broke apart, blushing and hiding their smiles at their eldest daughter's tone, which mimicked that of her grandmother's as she rolled her eyes and said, 'you're supposed to be reading the story, there's time for all of that later.'

'Well, I very much look forward to later,' Robert murmured in Cora's ear, and she smiled, winking at him, but as Sybil tugged at her hand, she picked up the book again, continuing to read to her children, happier than she ever thought possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This is a follow-up to the last chapter, requested by allabouttheabbey on tumblr :)**

At Mary's fifth yawn, even Cora, still reading, realised that the girls should go to bed, so, smiling coyly at her husband, who she knew had been looking forward to some time together, she closed the book and said, 'come on, girls, go to bed and we'll finish the rest tomorrow, I promise.'

Mary and Edith nodded, kissing their parents goodnight before making their way up to bed, so only Sybil remained, shaking her head, which surprised Robert – Sybil could be stubborn sometimes, but never about something so small, and he was about to speak sharply to her when he caught Cora's eye and she shook her head almost imperceptibly.

He watched curiously as she drew Sybil onto her lap and spoke to her soothingly, stroking her hair – what they spoke about, he had no idea, because they both whispered, but after a while Sybil seemed to calm down, and even kissed Cora on the cheek before leaving quietly.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Cora murmured, coming to sit next to him and realising how long he had been waiting, 'you see, since you've been gone, Sybil's being having awful nightmares, which is why she doesn't want to go to bed – and she doesn't want to tell you, that's why we were whispering, but I just thought you should know, since they're getting better anyway.'

The words died on her tongue as Robert kissed her gently, then, pulling back, he said softly, 'never apologise for being a wonderful mother to our children, Cora.'

She smiled, that lovely, wide smile he had missed, and kissed him passionately, leaning into the kiss so that her back was to the settee and pulling him on top of her - and as he laughed at her spontaneity and she giggled, her cerulean eyes sparkling, he realised that he had never been more entranced by the woman he had married thirteen years ago.


	11. Chapter 11

He doesn't imagine the gardeners will be pleased with him, but when Robert woke to the sight of his beautiful wife asleep, her naked body curled up next to his, and after his recollection of the previous night, when he had sobbed in her arms and she had held him and told him they would be alright, he desperately wanted to do something for her, even something very small, and the idea of bringing her flowers, like in the early days of their courtship, had seemed romantic.

Eventually, after cutting his finger on thorns twice, he managed to cut twelve roses from the rose garden – after leaving a note to apologise, something Cora will no doubt deem very English – and now he is waiting impatiently for her to wake so that he can give them to her.

As soon as she opens her eyes, blinking against the strong sunlight, he murmurs, 'good morning, darling,' and she smiles to see her husband, his clothes fastened slightly messily without the assistance of Bates, clutching a bunch of her favourite roses.

'Oh, Robert, what beautiful flowers,' she smiles as he kisses her gently, and then places the roses on her vanity.

'Yes, I thought Baxter would like them,' he replies,' but I'll let you give them to her from me in case I seem too keen.'

She laughs – that sunny, beautiful laugh he loves – and as he watches her he realises how long it has been since he made her laugh, and right then and there he vows to himself that he will never take her for granted again, but instead will treasure every moment they have together, every late morning, every walk through the gardens, every afternoon in the library and every night they spend curled up in each other's arms.


End file.
